Building Bridges
by armsoftheocean
Summary: What if Peeta had died during the rebellion, and Gale had come back for Katniss? AU Ending for Mockingjay. Katniss/Gale. CURRENTLY ON HIATUS/ABANDONED.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hello! This is just a fic I started writing because idk, I just love Gale/Katniss so much, and nothing has killed me more than the fact that Gale left. So, here's a fic. Also, for my plot's sake, Peeta is dead. I'll get more into that later. **

**Disclaimer:**** I obviously do not own THG or any of these characters. I own nothing but the plot. If you have to ask me if I own it... well, I don't.**

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><p><em>When you're at the end of the road<em>  
><em>And you lost all sense of control<em>  
><em>And your thoughts have taken their toll<em>  
><em>When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul<em>  
><em>Your faith walks on broken glass and the hangover doesn't pass<em>  
><em>Nothing's ever built to last, you're in ruins<em>

**_-21 Guns, Green Day_**

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><p>Solitary confinement is what I face after I come back. Everything was over, the Districts rebuilding themselves into a... happier place, I guess after the rebellion. I sit alone in my large house in Victors Village, which has been empty for weeks now, save the few times Haymitch had actually tried to get me to do something.<p>

Hah. Think of it, Haymitch trying to get _others _out of their misery. The idea was almost comical, a mirthless snort escapes me. Suddenly, I break out laughing, gasping for air, even though there was nothing funny about the situation.

I hear my laugh ring off the walls of the empty house, and a sob escapes me, as the impact sinks in. It's empty because Prim is dead, and my mother left. My eyes cloud over with tears, and I begin crying. There was a time when I wouldn't let anyone see me cry, especially Prim. I couldn't show weakness.

But now Prim is dead, there is no one left here. Just me, with a house to which the Capitol made for a murderer. Because that's what I am, aren't I? Those people I killed in The Hunger Games, the hundreds of lives that were lost in the rebellion, even Coin. I killed them.

Maybe I should take up drinking, like Haymitch. I didn't want to deal with the guilt anymore for all those lost lives. I guess I can see why he would drink. It eases the pain away.

I stumble up from my position on the couch, dropping the afghan that was wrapped around me. I shiver as the cold air touches my nearly bare body- a thin, dirtied chemise, and ragged shorts- and walk into the kitchen, pulling open a cupboard.

There was a stock of the liquor that I had kept for Haymitch in case he ran out, before the Quarter Quell, laying dusty and forgotten. It'd be so easy. Just falling into a drunken stupor like Haymitch had been for numerous years. He had stopped now, just the occasional glass if he was at the Hob, but that was it.

I weigh the bottle in my hand, watching the liquid slosh around inside. So... easy. I didn't even have to pour it into a glass. All need for table manners were trivial and stupid, when everyone you loved was gone, and none of those Capitol people were here to judge. I sit down on the breakfast bar, and set the bottle in front of me.

Should I? I'd turn into Haymitch, wouldn't I? The laugh of the town, an embarrassment. I scoffed. Did it even matter anymore? Sometimes I wish I hadn't pulled out those berries. If everything could be what we had considered normal after 74th Hunger Games. I should have killed Peeta, and won for myself. Prim would be here. My mother wouldn't have left. And Gal- well, _he'd _be in District 2, with someone else.

I breathed in. Out. In. Out. Another sob escaped me, and anger boiled in my blood. Even though it was all over, how _dare _the Capitol do this every year to countless families? They were the ones who had ripped Gale away from me. The amount of lives that were lost over these seventy five years. All that death, all the murder, just for entertainment. Just to make them happy, to keep us in check, to provide entertainment. It was sickening.

I laugh bitterly. Well, in check we kept, didn't we? Starting another rebellion and overthrowing them.

And now what was left for me? Wallowing alone for the rest of my life? My mother was gone, Gale was gone, Peeta was dead and all I had was Haymitch.

I snort. What wonderful company he would make. Suddenly, I hear the sound of a body crashing into something solid, and I whip my head around, eyeing the doorway out into the living room.

A body comes barreling through, rubbing his side. The familiar dark hair, grey eyes, tall stature, strong features. My breath catches in my throat, and my jaw slackens.

Gale.  
>"What are you doing here?" I hear the words escape before I can stop myself. I can see his body flinch, his eyes flicking back and forth from my face and the room. I look down and realise the state of my dress.<p>

"I, I-felt like- well," he began, his words stumbling over one another. He runs a hand through his dark hair. This is the first time I had ever seen Gale Hawthorne at loss for words. The idea of him not knowing what to say makes me want to laugh. Though laughing may not be the best idea in this situation, so I settle for glaring at him.

"You do _not _have the right to come here. Af-after you left, you can't _do _that." I say, my voice getting louder and louder with each word.

"Maybe we should talk after you, well, p-put on some other clothes?" he said weakly. A sharp bark of laughter escapes me. Gale. Ever the gentlemen.

"Maybe we shouldn't talk at all," I say coldly, glaring at him.

"But I thought-well, I lo-" he started off, but I cut him off. Katniss Everdeen was no longer being considerate. If he had the gall to just waltz in here after nearly six months of nothing, he was wrong. He wasn't going to be going through this easily.

"Get out, Gale," I said, my voice low.

"But Katniss, I lov-" A sharp pain cuts through my body.

"Don't. Say. A. Word. Especially not that. Ever again," I hiss, glaring at him.  
>"Leave. I don't want to talk to you," Gale's shoulders slumped a little, visible to only those who spent hours on end with him. The way his shoulders used to drop ever so slightly when we had missed a kill, or did not have a good haul.<p>

"OK," he said hoarsely, and walked out. When I hear the door slam, I lift my hand to my face, feeling the wetness- the tears that had unknowingly fallen. I grimace, crack open the bottle of liquor, and pour a healthy amount down my throat. The hard drink burns my throat as it goes down, and I cough. Tears begin to fall more freely now, and I push the bottle away, and press my cheek against the cold counter top, clenching my hands into fists, and letting out a frustrated scream.

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><p><strong>So, I realise that was a bit short, but I just wanted to… introduce the story a bit. Anyways, I hope to update this in a few days. Reviews motivate me to write… so review? :) If you noticed, I've tried keeping up with SC's writing tense.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Not very fond of this chapter but meh. **

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><p><em>When something is broken<br>__And you try to fix it  
><em>_Trying to repair it  
><em>_Any way you can  
><em>_I'm diving off the deep end  
><em>_You become my best friend  
><em>_I wanna love you  
><em>_But I don't know if I can_

**_-X&Y, Coldplay_**

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><p>Life is relatively normal for me now. Well, as normal as it <em>can <em>be. Saturdays are the days I usually visit the town, just to put on a show- part of the _deal _I had struck with Haymitch. I was allowed to wallow as much as I wanted, I could hunt whenever I wanted, as long as I put up a show for the rest of the town.

Plutarch had said it was best to show that the Mockingjay, their symbol of hope and rebellion was still functioning. Who knew how much a smile could cover up a person slowly crumbling away on the inside?

I had woken up this morning, curled up in Prim's old bed- the scent of flowers and herbs had long since faded from the sheets; the last scent of Prim ever. Tears stung my eyes. I had been sleeping in her bed for the first month when I had gotten back to 12, but decided it would only prolong the after effects of her death.

And then Gale came. His return brought back so many memories- whether they were good, or bad- that I wasn't sure of yet.

But the strongest memory was Prim's death. And then closely followed by Peeta's.

Of course, Prim's death was... well, not planned. How could Gale have known his intricate tramp would've killed her? How could he have known that Coin would be twisted enough to kill innocent children to secure her victory? But it still didn't change the fact that Prim was dead.

Peeta had died at the very end, a few minutes after I shot Coin. I guess Snow had some back up vile mutts left, just for one last attack, before I was supposed to kill him. Perhaps he had just one ally left- one person; which is what it would take to release the mutts. Set weeks in advance- maybe he knew this moment was coming. No one can retain their power for that long. Or unless, they were Coin's mutts. It didn't take long to see that if Coin had come into power, the world would not have become a better place.

Of course, Snow hadn't known that I wasn't going to kill him- or maybe he did- it seemed that he did know me, even in the most twisted way. He understood my calculating ways, the methodical ways I would subconsciously plan everything, so it would benefit me.

_The snarling half lizard-wolf mutts come tearing into the City Circle, screams of terror elicited from the silent and shocked crowd, barely a second after I kill Coin. An even two dozen mutts with four feet long green spiky lizard tails, feral muzzles stained with blood, coated in a glossy brown fur, their eyes shining with hatred and malice. Their tails swing back and forth, killing or maiming whoever had the misfortune of being hit by the pointed spikes, the guards around me lift their weapons, shooting at the quick mutts. A black mutt comes tearing up, jumping up thirty feet into the Victor's balcony. Annie lets out a piercing shriek, her arms folded against her stomach, clutching it for her dear life._

_A jolt awakens me from the shock, as I realise she must be pregnant. The mutt's eyes glitter with excitement, and I feel my feet moving before I can stop myself, moving to protect Annie. Moving to protect Finnick's unborn child. A hard body pushes my out of the way, barrelling in front of me, and roughly pushing Annie out of the way. My mouth opens to form the beginning of his name. The mutt's jaw clamps down on Peeta's throat, and I feel myself pushing a guard, grabbing his gun, and shooting straight into the brain of the mutt. The mutt's body falls on top of Peeta's, the dark blood matting Peeta's blond hair. _

_And I know this must be a mutt of Coin's. President Snow had his ways of creating mutts, the scent of the rosy blood to keep me in check and shock me. Coin did not know about how the roses effected me. How she kept it from the knowledge of everyone else, only she knows, and the rest of us will wonder. I knew she must have doubted my support for her, everyone had. A low guttural sound is wrenched from the back of my throat, and I hear myself join the screaming of the crowd. A pair of guards begin to pull me away, and I yell louder, fighting against them. I hear myself yelling Peeta's name, along with Gale's, searching for the arrow or gunshot Gale is supposed to kill me with. But there is no gunshot, or even an arrow, and I know Gale, like myself, cannot miss. He has not shot me, he has abandoned me, to let me be tortured, or whatever imminent fate awaited for me. _

Peeta's death had pained me. I had not expected it to affect me as much as it did, but it had. On top of everything that had occurred, the person who had experienced it all with me, was dead. And had died so close to when we would have gained freedom. There are so many different scenarios- what if he had simply seen the mutt coming? What if I was standing in his place instead? I was not in love with Peeta, but perhaps I would have begun to return his feelings in the future. Maybe we would have grown back together, but now? I will never know, nor will anyone else.

And once again, I had broken down, so they had restrained me. Why? Because I am the Mockingjay, and the Mockingjay needs to be protected. Not from the Capitol, or the rebels. Not from Snow, or Coin, but from myself.

The following weeks had been filled with crying and screaming, which were the only noises I was capable of producing. The loss of everyone I loved had sunk in finally. The death of Prim. My mother's escape. Gale's disappearance. Peeta's death. My father's death. All these thoughts had hit me at the same time, just as I was being put on the train back to 12. And I had broken down. It was the Capitol's fault. It was _their _fault so many had suffered, so many had died, and so many lived in poverty, whereas very few were born into a life of privilege and safety.

They told us how twisted humanity and our ancestors used to be, but really, were we really any better?

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><p><strong>This was more of a filler chapter to explain past events, I guess. Kinda annoyed me though, I didn't like it and tried editing it about five billion times but it still turned out kind of awkward and choppy so for that, I apologize. <strong>

**Anyways, reviews would be most welcome! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for not posting. I've been busy with things and school has started up, so I haven't gotten a chance to write until now! I might have some time after this weekend to write, but it really depends.**

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><p><em>Nothing's making sense at all.<em>  
><em>Wonder, why do we race?<em>  
><em>When everyday we're runnin' in circles,<em>  
><em>Such a funny way to fall.<em>

_**-Painting Flowers, All Time Low**_

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><p>I manage to pick myself up just as Greasy Sae comes in with her grand daughter, armed with fresh food in paper bags. She gives me a small smile, and her grand daughter peeks at me from behind her legs, her eyes bright and curious.<p>

"I have to go to town today," I state my voice void of any sort of emotion.

Greasy Sae nods. Both of us already know this.

"Shall I get Rosie to help you get ready?" she asks me. The small girl with long medium brown hair gives me a toothy smile, displaying her missing front teeth.

Her eager smile reminds me so much of Prim's that tears prick my eyes, but I nod anyways. She trails behind me as I walk up the stairs and to my bedroom.

"How old are you, Rosie?" I ask abruptly before I can stop myself. Her eyes brighten at the event of having a conversation with me, and she holds up eight fingers.

"Eight!" she says proudly, waving her fingers in the air. I give her a smile, but I suppose it turns out a bit strained or awkward- I haven't had much reason to smile the past year- since she gives me an odd look in return.

She looks as if she hasn't done anything fun for a while. And there isn't much fun to do, at the moment.

"How about you choose some clothes for me while I go bathe?" I tell her, moving towards the joint washroom. She nods eagerly, and pushes me with her small hands into the bright washroom.

I strip out of my old undergarments, and step into the shower, adjusting the knobs for a relaxing warm cycle.

The water pours over my body, and I scrub away the grime and dirt from the past days, Gale's return the only thing running through my mind.

I couldn't let anything happen with him and I. I was selfish, but I would be betraying Peeta, even if it _had _been for the cameras, and he was dead. Which made it worse. So what was to happen? I doubt Gale had left his fancy job in District 2, so what was he doing here? Certainly he couldn't be here to make amends- if he had wanted to do so, he would have not left in the first place. A knock on the door interrupts me from my thoughts, and I hear Rosie's high voice asking me if I was done.

I step out of the shower, and my body is bright red, from the scalding hot water. Strange, how some of my senses could be completely numbed.

I see that Rosie has laid out a dark blue dress for me, and I flinch. It had been one of Cinna's old casual designs, unworn until now. I consider pulling out my trousers and a t-shirt- but I can't handle anymore guilt- the look of hurt that is sure to flash in her eyes if I discard the dress she has laid out for me- especially if it was hurting a small child.

I slip it over my head, the soft silk brushing against my skin. I braid my wet hair, and my eyes catch a glimpse of the long jagged scar on my arm where Johanna had cut out the tracker in my arm- a life time ago, really. It had still not faded, and probably never would, the long scar raised a few centimetres off my skin, several shades lighter than my skin tone. Plutarch had offered to have the surgeons fix my scars, but I had said no. They had already ridden me of the calluses and scars I had gotten before The Hunger Games, and I would not allow them to rob me of my last reminder.

A sickening reminder, yes, but I could never forget, nor did I want to.

Rosie walked in, carrying a pale blue ribbon, and she threaded it through my braid. I glanced in the mirror and winced at how... girly I looked.

"You don't like it?" Rosie's eyes widened and I could see that I hurt her. The look in her pale blue eyes remind me so much of Prim that I feel my throat beginning to close up.

"No, Rosie- it's lovely," I give her another smile, and I guess this one is better because she beams back, showcasing her missing two teeth again.

"Would you like me to fix your hair?" I ask her, looking at her two braided pigtails. She nods eagerly and sits down on my bed, quickly unbraiding her hair with nimble fingers.

I pull out a delicate white hairbrush decorated with pale purple flowers Prim had given me, and a purple hairband, and begin brushing out her soft waves.

I braid a few small pieces and clipped it back, and slid the hairband in place, my fingers moving swiftly.

She turns and glances in the mirror, her features lighting up.

She gives me a grin, and flings her small arms around me. My body goes stiff but I manage to wrap my arms around her.

"Thank you!" she says, glancing at her loose hair once again.

I feel my eyes glass over for some strange reason- it had been a while since someone had said thank you to me.

Sure, there'd been the appreciation in the eyes of people. "Thank you, Katniss," they'd say, referring to the rebellion and the overthrowing of the Captiol. But no one had ever been grateful towards _me._Well, they didn't have a reason to. It's not like I was exactly kind towards everyone.

My hands hesitate for a moment, and pick up the small hairbrush, putting it in Rosie's hands.

"Keep it," I tell her, and I know Prim would do the same. Rosie smiles wider, and grabs my hand, yanking me towards the door.

"You have to go to town now, Katniss," she tells me, as we walk down the stairs, my dress fluttering behind me.

"Would you like to come with me?" I ask her, shocked at my own words. Well, I could only be alone too long. And I'd bet it could get boring spending all her time with Greasy Sae- there weren't many kids to play with now, and I doubt she found much joy sitting at a counter at The Hob. She smiles and nods, her eyes brightening up.

"I'm taking Rosie to town with me, if that's OK," I tell Greasy Sae, who's cleaning up the kitchen. I can see the shock in her grey eyes, but she nods, the hint of a pleased smile beginning to curve at her lips. I pick up the sac of food and sling it over my shoulder. The Districts were rebuilding themselves, but some people still didn't have enough to eat. Everything _would g_et better. Eventually.

Rosie and I walk out the front door, and walk the short walk to town, with Rosie chattering happily, filling up the silence. I hand out some bread, fruit, and non-perishable cans of food to the few I see along the way, and continue the walk into town.

The once dainty shops are now half rebuilt- some finished and in business, others in the process of being fixed. I see the Mellark's old bakery built up anew, with a jewellers shop instead. I flinch as I see the replaced sign.

"Katniss?" whispers Rosie, tugging at the bottom of my dress. I look down, startled to see I had frozen in place. A strangled sound escapes my throat, and I see a few people turn and stare.

Peeta was not someone I was in love with. For the eyes of the Capitol however, he had been.

But he wasn't someone I had hated. The Games had brought us closer, but nothing of the romantic sort of relationship.

What if I _had _returned his feelings, though? And they were real- not something fabricated for the enjoyment of the Capitol.

Would things have turned out different?

I snort out loud. Coin just needed a reason, and I had come along in a timely fashion.

"Katniss," I hear Rosie say again, and I look down, and give her a strained smile.

"Yes, sorry- just looking at the new shops," I murmur.

We walk around town for a bit, exchanging pleasantries, and make our way out and into the Seam, distributing the food from the sack evenly. Eventually, the sack is empty, and we begin to make our way back to the Victor's Village.

I don't know why I still live here, but… but it was the last memory of Prim. Besides, if I moved to town, I'd have to interact even _more _with people. And who knows how long I'd be able to manage that.

Which isn't part of the deal I made.

"Katniss!" yells a voice loudly. I freeze, and turn around, to see Gale coming running up quickly. He stops in front of me, and catches his breath.

"What?" I ask coldly.

"Can we just talk? Just for a minute?" he pleads.

"No- I have to take Rosie back," I reply stiffly, turning. He grabs my arm, and heat courses into my body. I jerk my arm away, crossing both arms across my chest instead.

"Not now, Gale," I say tiredly.

"Just give me time to myelf," I tell him. I see his body deflate a bit, but he continues talking.

"Please- I can explain-"

"There's nothing _to _explain," I reply, grabbing Rosie's hand, and turning around.

"Can we meet in the woods tomorrow? It _is _Sunday," he says. I hesitate for a moment, but don't bother giving him an answer.

Gale had hurt me, and left me, when he knew I had needed support. I have never liked asking for help, but everyone I loved was _gone. _And one of the few people who remained, and I actually had cared about, had just left.

I shake all these thoughts from my head, and focus on Rosie's happy chattering as we return to Victor's Village.

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><p><strong>Not too fond of this chapter... though I think you will all enjoy the next chapter! :D<strong>

**Review please? :)**


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